Everyone always blames the easiest target: the creepy girl in the corner, the pot head ditching class to smoke in the bathroom, the gang banger in history; it's human nature. No one wants to get in trouble and it just so happens that those of us with different lifestyles get the short end of the stick. It sucks because I know that when "shit goes down" it's always going to be my fault. And it is because of this that once again I am in a Dean's office getting chewed out and threatened with explosion.
My name, by some sick idea of my parents, is Daniel Gerous. Daniel. Gerous. Dan. Gerous. Dan-gerous. DANGEROUS! It's like my parents, or at least my mom, wanted to warn the fucking world about me. It's not like it's my fault I have my jackass of a father's DNA coursing through my veins. I didn't really get a say in the matter.
The Dean brought me back to reality by saying the few words that truly destroyed me. I was expelled. It was the seventh time this year; my foster parents are going to send me away. This thought was a physical pain; Donna and Matt were the best foster parents I had been with. They have even talked about adopting me fully. I was too busy off in lala-land to actually defend myself from the Dean.
FUCK.
